Swimming Bird: Origin
by Tamashi
Summary: A typical 'Before-the-Bebop' fic. My take on the relationship between Spike, Vicious and Julia. THIS IS A REPOST, but changes made to all chapters.NEW CH.6 in 1 week!
1. Chapter I: The Sun Also Rises

THANK YOU to everyone who rated/commented on this story previously! Unfortunately I deleted the original before copying down all of your names so I could thank you. Gomennasai.

DISCLAIMER: Cowboy Bebop's storyline and characters belong to Sunrise Inc. I have absolutely no intention of stealing or copying their material. This story is not for profit. DON'T SUE ME! _BTW, if words are italicized, it indicates internal thought._

**Swimming Bird: Origin**

Chapter I: The Sun Also Rises

Mao heard the soft, familiar click of his well-oiled doorknob and looked up from his paperwork as an ashen-faced young man in Red Dragon livery entered his office. Mao graced him with a look of mild inquiry and motioned for him to have a seat. The boy bowed respectfully and seated himself. Mao waited for him to report, but he kept his silence and was inexplicably unable to meet his superior's gaze. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Mao stood and braced himself for whatever bad news his herald had brought.

"Have you come from the outskirts of the city?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And? What do you have to report?"

The young man opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. "It was an ambush, Sir."

Mao sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It is unfortunate that the matter could not be settled peacefully, as I had hoped. Please continue."

"We were outnumbered three to one. All of our men sustained injuries, and few escaped with their lives. I-I was sent here...because..." The young man fidgited in his seat and winced. Suddenly he felt Mao's reassuring hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see genuine concern in his master's eyes.

"Tell me. What happened?"

"Sensei...Sir David was killed during the attack."

Mao took a step back and rested a trembling hand on his desk. "No...David!"

The syndicate leader turned away and the young man stood, feeling terrible to be the bearer of such bad news. An awkward silence settled over the room. Finally Mao straightened and turned around, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes as he did so.

"Thank you, Tsao. I will handle the arrangements from here."

"Yes, Sir." Tsao turned to leave, then hesitated. "Sensei-about Sir David's relatives. Would you like me to-"

"No, Tsao. David burned his bridges a long time ago."

"But Sir, his son-"

Mao closed his eyes, and a faint wavering smile flitted across his face. "I will see to the boy."

Tsao bowed low and left Mao alone in his grief. As the door snicked shut behind him, Mao lifted an old photograph from his desk. He and his daughter Annie were smiling and happy...and there, with an arm draped casually over Annie's shoulders, was David. The fool was wearing that same lopsided smirk Mao remembered so well. "Ah, David, you were a little brother to me," he sighed, and poured himself a small glass of red wine. He raised the glass to the setting sun, allowing the light to shine through the fine crystal, red light playing across his cheek.

"This is for you, David Spiegel. You shall be avenged. And your son, Spike, I will raise as my own."


	2. Chapter II: Convergence of the Twain

**Chapter II: Convergence of the Twain**

"Spike! Pay attention! This move could save your life!"

Spike yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I'm seeing your damned moves in my sleep, Heiji."

"SIR Heiji, if you please," growled the instructor, tossing a pair of nunchucks at Spike, who caught them deftly and began imitating his mentor's moves.

Heiji groaned and motioned for Spike to stop. "No no no. You're drifting high on the right. That leaves your right side open to attack."

"Sorry," Spike mumbled, and began again. He knew Heiji was right, and he really enjoyed working with the various types of weapons, but sometimes the old geezer could be a real bore.

Heiji indicated that Spike should continue to practice and went out into the hall, where Mao stood waiting. Standing next to him was a silver-haired young man with a katana at his side. Heiji bowed to Mao and then turned to the young man, who bowed respectfully.

"So, this must be the young Sir Vicious," said Heiji with a smile, removing his glasses and polishing them on his shirtsleeve. "I've heard a great deal about you."

Vicious remained silent. Mao returned the smile, and his gaze traveled to the practice room door. "Yes, I'm sure you have, Heiji. But tell me...what do you think of Spike?"

Heiji replaced his glasses and blinked several times. "He's been progressing nicely, though lately he seems a bit distracted. I imagine he's growing tired of sparring with an old man like me."

Mao chuckled, amused. "Please, Heiji, you're barely half my age. But if Spike thinks he's up for the challenge, I'm sure Vicious would be willing to entertain him. It's about time that boy earned his Title."

The surprise was apparent on Heiji's face, but he had no intention of arguing with the head of the Red Dragon syndicate. The three men entered the training room together.

Mao had to choke back a laugh when he saw Spike standing on his head, eyes closed, his messy greenish hair splayed across the training mat and a nunchuck held between his toes. He was obviously bored, whistling and giving the lightweight weapon an occasional twist with his ankle. Heiji was mortified. Mao cleared his throat and Spike, realizing that his sensei had brought back an unexpected guest, flipped gracefully to his feet and bowed low. His lean physique and easy grace definitely reminded Mao of Spike's father, but his height must have been one of his mother's attributes. At the age of nineteen, Spike was almost a head taller than Mao. And he was definitely in excellent shape; he wasn't even sweating.

Mao ushered Vicious forward. "Spike, I would like to introduce you to Sir Vicious. With any luck, you two will be sparring partners in the near future, so please get to know each other." The two men bowed, and Mao nodded to both of them. As he passed Spike, Mao muttered, "And please Spike, for once...TRY to be polite!"

Before Spike could squeeze in a snide remark, Mao took his seat and Heiji stepped forward..

"Spike, are you ready for your test?"

Spike smirked and nodded. If he took his test now, he would earn his Title in the Red Dragon, thus becoming "Sir Spike". '_Finally',_ he thought, '_Mao is taking me seriously.'_

Heiji smiled politely and nodded. "Good. Sir Vicious, please don't hold back. You may begin when ready."

The sensei had barely finished speaking when Vicious' sword sprang from it's sheath, lashing out in a tight arc which would have decapitated Spike instantly had he not been alert. Spike dropped and rolled, dodging the blade and simultaneously grabbing a quarterstaff from its mount in a nearby weapon rack. "Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about," he muttered, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. Vicious kept Spike on his toes, never letting him return an attack. Spike allowed himself to be forced back, blocking with his staff and taking the opportunity to observe and anticipate his opponent.

With a sudden thrust of the katana, Vicious got past Spike's tentative defenses and landed a shallow cut on his arm. Spike sneered and his eyes narrowed. Time to show this guy how it was REALLY done. As the sword swept high, Spike crouched low, nailing Vicious in the stomach and forcing him back a full two steps. A thin smile flitted across Vicious' features as he recovered and lashed out with another violent attack, but this time Spike pinned the blade to the floor with the staff.

Mao and Heiji watched the contest with keen interest. The opponents were very well matched, forcing each other to perform at their best. First one gained the offensive, then the other, back and forth like a ball between them. Mao couldn't help but wonder who was supposed to be testing who.

The two antagonists were breathing hard now, but enjoying themselves immensely. Circling like wolves, they looked for weaknesses. Vicious saw his opportunity; Spike held his staff a touch too high, exposing his side. Without warning he moved in to finish the fight, feigning a thrust at Spike's head and then cutting down to his exposed side. Spike smiled to himself and dropped his staff...Vicious had fallen for his trap.

There was a flash of movement, and a loud clang echoed through the training room. Vicious looked down the length of his sword, and with a hint of disgust he realized that Spike had caught the blade with a nunchuck. The katana was held motionless a few inches from Spike's waist. '_The bastard must have had it hidden behind his back the entire time,' _Vicious thought. Spike gave a violent tug, but Vicious had no intention of allowing his sword to be taken from him. He angled his blade in slightly and allowed Spike to pull, using the inertia to bring the sharp edge closer to Spike's exposed side. Spike noticed this and stopped pulling. Neither was willing to give in to the other.

Mao saw that the contest had reached a deadlock and clapped his hands once to signal the end of the test. The two students simultaneously relaxed, returning their weapons to their proper places and exchanging polite bows.

"Congratulations, Spike, you've earned your Title," Heiji said with a tone of exasperation, and Spike knew what he was thinking: _Why, oh WHY couldn't you just use proper guard positions in the first place?_

It is said that to know your opponent's personality, you must first fight him. Having finished this brief match, Spike and Vicious truly saw each other for the first time. Spike knew Vicious to be a poised, controlled and calculating swordsman with an iron will and overpowering ambitions. In turn, Vicious had discovered that despite Spike's laid-back appearance, he was dangerously observant and unpredictable, much like a stray dog. Aloud, Vicious said, "I look forward to training with you, Sir Spike," and turned to leave.

"Yeah," replied Spike, retrieving his staff from the floor and twirling it idly between his long fingers. "Thanks for the workout, Sir Vicious. See you around."

"Of course," the other replied, and continued out the door.

Mao came up behind Spike and clapped him on the back, nearly causing the exhausted young man to fall flat on his face. "Sugoi, Spike! I'll be expecting nothing less from now on!" With that, the delighted old man flashed Spike a proud smile and followed Vicious out the door.

Spike inhaled noisily and stretched his arms up as far as they would reach, ignoring the sting of the cut on his arm. '_Should probably clean that up,'_ he thought.

"Yo, Heiji, mind if I take a break? I'm hungry."

"It's SIR Heiji, Spike."

"It's SIR Spike, Heiji." '_Man, I've always wanted to say that.'_


End file.
